


Visiting the Temple

by Violsva



Category: The Comfortable Courtesan - Madame C- C-
Genre: F/M, Fantasizing, Masturbation, Mild D/s, Multi, Polyamory, Rope Bondage, voyeuristic fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 07:43:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8319577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violsva/pseuds/Violsva
Summary: Clorinda lying wakefull in her solitary bed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://the-comfortable-courtesan.dreamwidth.org/96574.html) which takes place around [here](http://the-comfortable-courtesan.dreamwidth.org/44913.html).
> 
> Lord G- R-’s first name is extracanonical but provided [here](http://the-comfortable-courtesan.dreamwidth.org/37128.html?thread=501000#cmt501000).

Had the young Clorinda ever believed the direful predictions of the dangers of _Onanism_ , her later career would have utterly destroyed such notions. Now, even in this new situation where she needed to maintain strict discretion, she at least had the comfort of her own hands. Mostly she though of her dearest loves, Eliza’s full breasts and giddiness, Josiah’s shoulders and his broad hands holding her hips, both of them laughing at her and teasing her out of her melancholy, what they might be doing together in their own bed to console themselves of the lack of their third. But she might think of anyone, of Biffle, or the dear Admiral, or any of a number of men from the past, whose wealth and good looks had ensured that once they at last turned their thoughts from her to marriage they had no shortage of attention.

She was not experienced in every form of lasciviousness, but she would have thought that her past and present furnished her with everything she herself might be interested in, from tutoring virgin boys to being ravished by a determined wild girl. But still some nights she found herself lying awake, imagining all sorts of extraordinary things in her desperation for a touch other than her own. And what harm was there in it, when she of all people knew how little connection there might be between desires in the boudoir and life outside it?

Still she wished her mind would not keep flying to thoughts of her fingers sliding through russet hair, or pulling away a pair of spectacles, or her mouth pressing to a puritanical frown until it opened to her in a gasp of surprise, letting her in, letting her push him down onto her sopha and lie atop him, feel him starting to respond to her against his expectations, against his previous ideas of himself, for her alone among women...

She wanted to redirect her thoughts, but they slipped away from her, perhaps merely on the waves of the extra glasses of wine she’d had at dinner. In fantasy she could make his clothes vanish at once, revealing his slender form - and yes, she had admired it, if only as an artist might, had noticed that Gervase was having some effect on his tailoring. So she could guess easily at his chest, his narrow waist, those very fine legs. No doubt the skin beneath his clothes would be even paler than the rest. Was he freckled? Was his skin smooth, or secretly hairy past the borders of his cuffs? Details, she wanted details, and the scene in her mind was falling apart.

If he came and asked to take her up on her long-ago offer - no better time than now, when both of them were left to their own devices. Perhaps - oh, even in Surrey, if he had shown any eagerness, they might then indeed have - had he ever seen a woman nude before, in the flesh? Surely he had, but - would he be frozen, staring at her, until she directed him?

Or someone else directed him? She thought of the endless laughing comments that Lord Gervase should grant his worthy, besotted secretary a night with her. If Gervase had known, in Surrey, if he insisted on staying, watching perhaps, or had let her watch -

\- this she had had before, with two gentlemen who claimed to be nothing more than very close friends, taking her in turns, and she had known better than to suggest they desired each other at least as much as they did her. But with more honesty in it, oh, yes, she would like to be between them, oh yes, broad shoulders and dark hair on one side and blushes and - it might be _philosophickal curiosity_ to start, but would turn _not at all_ philosophickal, entirely carnal and bodily. Oh, and if they kissed over her shoulder, yes, and she could _see_ , and if she could watch Sandy, laid out and driven to utter distraction by a mouth on his prick, could climb over him and distract him further, sit on his mouth and tell him exactly what to do for her as he, oh, as he lost his reason beneath them both, oh -

Lord, _yes_. She turned over, clutching a pillow to her face and trying to put the thoughts from her mind. Now she must be satisfied, and sleep, and hopefully forget all of this.

But her still-active mind kept toying with the thought of instructing him, of novelty, of him under her, wishing to _learn_ from her, oh, if only she thought there were any chance that he might ask for a demonstration of -

But she would not be a mere _example_ , she wanted to give him something no one else could -

And if there was something else he wanted instruction in, something he might not want to ask from Gervase without knowing more of it, then he might come to her. Her hands found their way back to the centre of her pleasure.

She knew something of most _special pleasures_ , even those she had chosen not to provide, but only a few personally appealed to her. But sometimes - oh, yes, rope, perhaps. She thought of him tied, bound hand and foot and kneeling at her feet. He would try, no doubt, to glare at her, but he’d asked for this, told her - blushing, yes - how he’d thought of it, how he wanted her to hold him down, tie him, direct him, just once before he asked Gervase, wanted to know the reality of what he’d fantasized about, trusted her for it -

Yes, rope around his wrists, his arms, crossing over his chest, kneeling - or lying - utterly immobile and _hard_ , and a little surprised by how it did affect him just as it had in his mind, how _she_ affected him.

And he might have been blushing at first but he would slip, he would relax and follow her, follow her lead, he would close his eyes and - oh - oh - when she touched him - oh - when she - she could do anything - and he’d want it, oh, oh, all bound and desperate and - yes!

Yes. Mmmm. Clorinda fell asleep in seconds.


End file.
